Most recent post

There is a Disparity in My Light: Navigating the Split Creative Consciousness

-
Image
  There is a Disparity in My Light: Navigating the Split Creative Consciousness Introduction - does metamodernism oscillate? Clarity, I've learned, doesn't guarantee a smooth landing. While the core recalibration manages our internal mechanics, we eventually have to look back out the window and confront the final destination. For many creators navigating major life transitions or complex technical boundaries, this shift introduces an unsettling inner divide. The anatomy of disparity in creative practice is the psychological friction of a split being—standing physically present in a new space while your internal pace is still trying to catch up with the velocity of your transition. When we widen our creative intent, we often slice our universe in half: balancing cold, geometric clarity on one side against the messy, vibrant residue of personal regret on the other. Rather than forcing these halves to blend, we must learn to treat this exact contrast as our personalised map. 1. Ge...
Post a Comment

The Waiting Lounge Flowers

-

 

The Waiting Lounge Flowers


The Waiting Lounge Flowers Poem

The waiting lounge is a place of human transition, where strangers weave a tapestry of silent experiences.
People occupy seats, orchestrating a symphony of hushed conversations and restless energy.
The air is full of anticipation, and a semblance of camaraderie ignites the room.
While some are lost in digital worlds, others watch planes on the tarmac.
Amidst the restless hum, some seek solace in nervous taps upon their thighs.
A young couple shares whispers of love and delicate secrets.
An elderly man turns time-worn pages, escaping into another world.
The collective yearning within is veiled by the dance of coffee and perfume.
Spontaneous children's laughter bounces between rows of chairs, filling the space with memory echoes of want.
A businessman's urgency is etched upon his face as his fingers dance within his keys.
Fleeting connections, forgotten glances, and stories that interlace and entwine.
Blossoming possibilities sprout within these transient walls like delicate flowers.
Departure looms, and the lounge pulses with energy, a portrait of imminent dispersal.
Strangers bound by purpose, threads of destiny intertwine.
Conversations are canvases and whispered brushstrokes paint the air.
Eyes are portals to distant skies, yearning for wings that will soon take flight.
Nervous rhythms and whispered rhymes form a symphony of unspoken desires.
Fragments of stories are whispered between sips of bitter coffee and sweet perfumes.
Nervous laughter cascades like an inconvenient rain, trying to wash away the burdens of waiting.
In this transient space, transitions unfurl, and the lounge becomes a confined meeting place of souls.


The Waiting Lounge Flowers Video











John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett is an independent artist. You can subscribe to JJFB's work via Blogger, YouTube, Flicker, Facebook, Instagram and Deviant Art. 

If you want to support his art creation, you can sponsor JJFBbennett through PayPal here or a subscription via Patreon here.

If you want to acquire JJFB's art creations as an NFT - John's Opensea NFT profile is https://opensea.io/JJFBbennett  

Copyright

This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Ethereal Ascent

-
Image
  The Ethereal Ascent The air in the room is violently still, creating a heavy pressure. She has long stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here is not a sequence but a weight. The waiting room has fractured; the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum flooring splinters into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly blues vibrate as if hardened walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted. There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She looks out, as if just awakened, and does the only thing left to recollect. She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more. Be Creative and Innovative wit...
Read more

It is raining in Taipei

-
Image
  It is raining in Taipei  (A Jazz Ballad for a Warm Rainy Day) Left my umbrella folded, didn’t care Stepped into a street that shimmered everywhere Neon bleeding red and green Where the wet world makes a mirror of everything Some dressed in a ghost-white cape Life slips on by—no honk, no haste Just the rhythm on the awning And the smell of Taipei in the rain Oh, rain on the asphalt, warm and slow Where the city leans in soft and low No place to go, nowhere to be Just the rain, just the rain, just the rain and me And when I dry off and turn the key I won’t remember what I saw, you see I’ll remember how I slowed enough to feel That surrender is the only thing that’s real Shhh… just the rain… Mmm, just the rain. Yeah. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art .  Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private ...
Read more

I am sealed in this capsule

-
Image
  I am sealed in this capsule The transition from the static concrete of that waiting room to the pressurised cabin of this jetliner changes the entire physics of my wait. I’m no longer pacing floors or slouching into plastic seats; I've been sealed inside a capsule, and soon to be hurtling through the sky toward China. Now that I'm finally buckled in, my restlessness hasn't disappeared, but at least I’ll soon gain altitude. I look around and can see exactly how this emotional shift plays out in other lives. There is an initial sense of order and quiet relief. I see the neat rows of seats, the soft symmetry of the aisle, and the steady, reassuring presence of the flight attendant, offering the illusion of control. The ceiling washes into soft, atmospheric blues and teals. I imagine the sky outside. I can feel the collective breath of a hundred passengers all transitioning into the same forced pause. For a moment, my world feels structured, clean, and neatly aligned. I know ...
Read more